Flawed But Never Imperfect
by I LOVE Sparkley Scars
Summary: They say the devil comes in the purest form of temptation. Easily seducing whomever he pleases. They also say even the mightiest fall. Even his flawed soul can't escape the encompassing and entrancing pull of the imperfection of her love. MyMusic Universe. Tobuscus/OC Devilbuscus/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello once again Audience! Before we get this thing started I just have to say that I'm sorry, but this had to be done. I hadn't seen one fan fiction for Devilbuscus anywhere online and that just can't be! This one shot is loosely based on the barely explored Satan character of MyMusic. Devilbuscus is more twisted and dark in this piece than he is in the show, but come on, his character is the devil after all. He's got to be evil, it's just who he is. And, he's usually in an episode for a short span of time, therefore he could be an evil little bastard the rest of the time we don't see him. Who knows. **_

_**He is paired with an unnamed, uncharacterized, and undescribed mystery original character of mine. So feel free to imagine whom every you like, yourself included. (Cause that's pretty much what I do, but you didn't hear my say that.)**_

_**One last thing, I feel I need to put in some sort of disclaimer that this story deals with the themes of life, death, souls, Heaven, Hell, Christianity, God, and, of course, the devil. In no way whatsoever is this meant to sway your opinion on these matters, belittle what you personally believe, or anything of the sort. It's purely a work of fiction and nothing more. This is merely a product of little sleep, 2 am, and Fall Out Boy's song, "Alone Together".**_

_**Now that that's out of the way, read, enjoy, and review!**_

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They say the devil comes in the purest form of temptation. Easily seducing whom ever he pleases. They also say even the mightiest fall. Even his flawed soul can't escape the encompassing and entrancing pull of imperfection of her love. MyMusic Universe. Tobuscus / OC Devilbuscus / OC

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**Flawed But Never Imperfect**

**Third Person POV**

Haunting eyes shift through the crowd. The sound of someone sucking their teeth rings through the air. A dark aura hangs overhead and everyone is sure to steer clear of the strangely dressed man. With a devious smirk twisting his lips, the pitchfork in his left hand begins pounding on the concrete. Once. Twice. Three times is all it takes for his faithful Hell hounds to begin pounding the sidewalk towards the unsuspecting soul. Screams that could only come from a nightmare ring in his ears. Ahh, such sweet music. A malicious smile contorts his handsome face as he watches the dogs he summoned latch onto the soul. Teeth rip and gnaw at arms and legs, easily slicing through bone. Curling his fingers around the pole of his staff, he drums them. Once. Twice. Three times and it's as if the soul was never here. Roaming the streets of L.A., completely invisible and unnoticed to the living. The Hell hounds had dragged that poor unsuspecting being down deep into the depths below. Chilling, shrill cries buzz in his brain. A dark chuckle escapes his lips as the ground that had swallowed the soul whole seals itself up again.

It was a good day to be him. The devil. Satan.

Humming a nondescript tune, he smiles brightly as he starts walking down the busy sidewalk once more. He waves to the passer-bys that give him strange looks. It's not Halloween, not even close, but hey, it's L.A. Clearly such things should be suspected. After all there is a different superhero on every corner. Right? Foolish mortals. They can't recognize him to be who he truly is. All they merely see is a strange man in odd makeup and dress. No, they can't see past exteriors when they're in this form. Muddled by all their selfish thoughts and problems. Consumed by what he loathed most. _Love_. But what their eyes couldn't see, their souls could. Yes, the eyes are the windows to the soul so they truly notice all. Shame most modern beings can't communicate or understand what their inner most self is screaming at them. To run. Run away from him as fast as their little legs can muster.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit that over his endless rein that he had never met someone who could see what lies beneath his sugar coated mask. There were a number. Granted it was small enough that he could count it off with just his fingers, but there still were. Back in the olden days, before modern technology and new religions, back when people where a God praising and devil fearing race, they were more common. He never liked the look of them though. He was the devil after all. The master of deception. Prince of darkness. The spinner of lies. God of greed. And, so much more. He didn't appreciate the fact, let alone the mere thought, that his web of lies could be unrevealed so easily by a mere mortal. Therefore they were always dealt with quickly on the surface. Only to be tortured slowly below.

Those alluring orbs eyes shine with bloodlust, yet there's a sick sense of thrill mixed in. It had been too long since he'd been out collecting like this. This was the grimm's job after all. But, by God, had he missed this. The smell of fresh meat and utter fear. The look of horror that lingers in his victim's eyes. The terrified and pain filled screams that echo and give him chills of satisfaction. Yes, far too long.

Having been so consumed with the souls below, his only revere was to escape to the surface. He never ventured further than the office space of MyMusic. Never took the opportunity to roam the Earth he longs to rule. A smile returning to his face, he starts to whistle a catchy tune. A small child carelessly runs into him. Today he was simply in too good of a mood to smite the child for that foolish act. Instead, he smiles in response to the mumbled words of 'I'm sorry' and continues on his way.

Yes. Today was a good day to be him.

L.A. was an overpopulated city. Overrun with wondering souls who spent their afterlife looking for a purpose. Who spent their endless time watching and calling out to loved ones and friends. Only to never be seen or heard. Those pathetic beings gave him a cause. Gave him a reason to continue his hunt for the next victim. Years of experience had left an boringly predictable pattern. He had created an art form. All in catching those helpless souls. It was simple, but everything had to be precise. Everything had to be perfect. While his Father admired mankind's imperfection and even helped encouraged it by creating less than perfect beings, he loathed it. He _hated_ the mere thought of something not following the set path. Hated it with every fiber of himself.

He could enjoy flawed on the occasion. The souls that killed, that pillaged, that stole, they were all flawed. They were kinsmen of his. Even more so than his demon underlings. After all, he was flawed himself. He was the only demon in Hell to have a soul. The only one cursed with battling foolish emotions and thoughts. He was flawed thanks to his Father. Flawed but not imperfect. Never imperfect.

Imperfection burned his eyes and churned his stomach. There always the itching feeling to smite them all from this realm. But, he never did. He never could. After all, if he got rid of imperfection his job would be meaningless.

Yet, as much as he hated, no _despised_, imperfection, that was all he saw in her. There was nothing special. Nothing was different. She was nondescript in every way. The perfect description of the average woman on this planet. Everything about him, everything that made him _him_, changed when she was around. He turned into an atypical version of himself. There was no reason why. He didn't understand how she could do this to him. To _him_! Of all people! He had nothing to blame. There was no one to smite for causing this. No one except her. He could never do that though. Never ever.

All he could track this back to was his damned flawed self. The only piece of him that made him different. His flawed soul. She brought it out in him, made it appear less broken. The skill set of her deception surpassed his own. She deceived him into believing things. Seduced him into acting unlike himself. Coaxed him into the light. All without even trying. She wasn't an especially witty or cunning girl, nor even the slight bit devious. She was simply herself. Which happened to be everything he wasn't.

Being around her made him feel things. Guilt. Sadness. Hope. Happiness. _Love_. The absolute worst of them all. He loved her. If feeling such a thing is even possible for someone like him. And, he _cared_. Him! Caring! The mere prospect of it would've made him shudder years ago, but now he couldn't imagine a time before. A time before he knew her. Before he cared for her. Before he loved her. Before her.

Though he wants to hate her, he can't bring himself to. Though he wants so desperately to put an end to these feelings she provokes, he can't find it in him to stop her. Though he wants to forget about her, he can't stay away. He keeps coming back to her. To her. Just a silly little human.

The girl was nothing special. She wasn't particularly beautiful, though not unattractive. She certainly wasn't the smartest, nor the thinnest. Nor the best of anything, really. To him though, she was everything and more. While he had first viewed her as unworthy and imperfect, now he could never imagine seeing her in that light. She was simply flawed like himself. They were kindred souls.

Kindred souls in most ways, but there always were differences that drew them apart. That reminded him that she was very flawed, much like himself. After all, she had to be deeply flawed to love someone such as himself.

If he had to pick something that annoyed him, it was that sickeningly foolish 'turn the other cheek, see the best in everyone and everything attitude' that she never failed to loose. That and that foolish ignorance she possessed.

Her ignorance of who he really is.

_The Devil._

Her ignorance of what he's done.

_Murdered. Tortured. Killed. Stolen. Cheated. Lied. The list goes on for ages._

Her ignorance was what he is.

_A demon._

Somehow her ignorance intrigues him, though. He finds himself fueling it. Late at night, when she's wrapped up in his dark embrace, he whispers honey saturated words in between feverish kisses. He seduces her with carefully colored lies betwixt labored breaths and muffled moans. All to keep her that way. He can't tell her who he is, what he is, what he's done. Though it's obvious. If only the girl were to look hard enough. If only she lifted those rose colored glasses she always wore. But, she doesn't. She remains oblivious and he wants to keep it that way. He lets her live in the fantasy world of rainbows she's created. Where he's only and always the side that only she can bring out. He would never take that away from her. And, he'd be damned if he let someone else try.

Whether he liked it or not, there was no denying the simple truth of the matter.

He was hers.

She was his.


	2. Never Interrupt Me

_**Hello once again Audience! ...Can I just mention the intense love/hate relationship I have with Sydbuscus and MsTg1313? I mean, I fooping love you guys for reading and reviewing, but God dangit! I wasn't planning on continuing, but your reviews inspired me. Damn you!**_

_**Seriously though, thank you both. I honestly didn't think anyone would be interested in a Devilbuscus story, but I'm happily surprised that you guys are. Originally that last one was only supposed to be a one shot, but I've decided to add this it thanks to you two. Right now, I'm toying with making this into an actual story or not. What do you guys think? Would you read and/or be interested in a full blown Devilbuscus/OC story?**_

_**Side note, this chapter, excluding this super long author's note is 666 words. Devilbuscus would approve.**_

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**Never Interrupt Me**

Soft lips curled into a shy yet strangely endearing smile. A dark flush would color her features as he hovered over her. Their bodies met flesh to flesh. His hands wandered north while hers ventured south, just where he wanted her most. A surprised gasp would turn into soft pants as he brought her closer.

Thoughts like that hung with him for what seemed like an eternity. They clouded his brain and muddled his thoughts until she was all he thought about. He didn't even know her name, hadn't seen her for more than a mere moment, yet he wanted her. He wanted her so badly. He needed her. There was an aching need to possess her. He _had_ to have her. It was all he thought about.

Beautiful eyes turned his way. Skin that was like silk under his fingertips. Curves that he would trace. Voice like that of his once angel sisters. _Satan_. Saying his name. _Satan_. Moaning his name. _Satan!_ Her attention was all his. She was all his. _SATAN_!

A feral growl escapes his lips and his eyes dart wildly around the room as he's drawn out of his daydream. "What," he cooly questions, the rasp of his voice hanging in the air. That tone makes all the others in the room shrink back in their chairs. That tone was the voice of someone who was ready to kill. To murder. Right then and there. He was pissed.

"Y-You in or you out?" Metal stutters, clearing his throat to try to sound confident. There was no fooling him though. One can try, but you can never fool the master of deceit.

A smirk slowly twitches on his lips. Narrowed eyes scan the poker table. The other men swallow thickly, eyeing him warily as beads of sweat collect on their brow. Lips curled into a full blown smile now, he darkly chuckles. Focusing on the dealer, he doesn't bother to answer. Instead he blindly reaches behind him until his hand curl around his pitchfork. Metal shivers, clearly recalling what he had done at the last game.

As if to tease him, the pole is lifted slowly into the air before being firmly dropped down.

_Bang_.

Once.

_Bang_.

Twice.

A deadly still air hangs over the table. With baited breathes, wide terrified eyes, sweaty palms, and racing hearts, they all watch as Satan laughs darkly.

_Bang_.

Three times.

The lights flicker ominously. He simply props the pitchfork back against the wall. An expression of disinterest crosses his features. Metal relaxes, as does everyone else, assuming it was all simply for effect. All saying that had he wanted to, he could've done something, but he didn't. Satan leans back in his chair as he peeks at his hand. While his gaze is on the two aces in his hand, that dark grin returns. Bloodthirsty growling echoes around the room. A predatory bark is heard. That's all the warning they receive before it's upon them.

Pain. Excruciating pain is the first thing Metal registers. Tears spring to his eyes and a cry rips past his throat. The others look on in surprise at the solid black shadow latched onto Metal's arm. The beast jaw clamps on, razor sharp teeth tearing through skin and muscle. The hound tenses it's jaw and Metal's efforts to push the thing off is futile.

Satan looks up from his cards, a hardened look in his alluring gaze. "Enough." His voice rings clear, silencing the beasts cries and, surprisingly, Metal's. The hound obediently loosens it's hold on Metal's arm and trots over to his master. The black shadow turns into a foggy mist before their very eyes. The dog is now clearly visible as it jumps onto it's master's lap. He casts a fond look down at his favorite hound. "Good boy Gryphon," he compliments softly. Flitting his gaze back up to the whimpering Metal, his voice looses all warmth. Several chips are tossed into the center pile. "Never interrupt me."


	3. Don't Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned

_**Hello once again Audience! MsTg1313, Sydbuscus, Darling-Startdusted-Traverser, naisie-mae14, and Whatever1993, thanks to all your freaking insane reviews I have started working on a full fledged story for this. I've been toying with doing something like below in the actual story, what are your thoughts? Yay or nay? Also, I'm going to weave in biblical references into the main story. So, be forewarned if you are easily offended by the twisted and sacrilegious outcome.**_

_**Fun Fact - MsTg1313 informed me that 666 is a bad translation of the real number for the devil. It's really 616. You really do learn something everyday. I love things like that. Thank you gurl!**_

_**Side note - It's snowing where I am, which is very unusual for where I live at this time of the year, and, strangely, I want to break out into Christmas carols and start drinking hot chocolate. Having those thoughts while writing this chapter seems really weird.**_

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**Don't Bless Me Father**

**Third Person POV**

Wisps of silver smoke dance through the air around her still form. Unearthly voices speak to her, seeming to come from the very smoke that mockingly slips through her fingers. It hangs heavy, filling her lungs with a leaden weight. Her breathing comes out in short, raspy pants. The smoke burns her eyes and scorches her skin. Violent coughing catches her off guard and she spins around in place. Scanning the haze of smoke, her mind finally makes the disconnect and she realizes those horrible retching sounds were coming from her.

The smoke begins to thin and the grim setting is finally visible is the dim light. She's standing in the center isle of an abandoned church. The pews sit empty. A lone finger trails a path through the thick covering of dust, revealing the gleaming cherry wood beneath. Tapestries that illustrate the stations of the cross are charred and mangled, distorting the image of Jesus. The holy ground has been destroyed and tainted. However, the altar remains untouched. Tall stained glass windows depicting two, beautiful angels entice an awed smile out of her. The yellows and whites of the pure beings are stark against the red and blue background pieces. It reminds her somewhat of yin and yang. Good and evil. Apart they are powerful. One can drive men to madness and the other can build them up. Together they work in harmony. One cancels out the other and vice versa.

An imposing wooden cross hangs directly in between the twin angels. The figure of Jesus, nailed to the center, watches over it all. Pure white linen, edged in shimmering gold, line the table. The flames of the candles atop flicker over the printed words of scripture. A marble bowl filled to the brim stands before it to purify and bless any who wish to approach. She approaches the altar with reverence. With a bowed head and folded hands, she stops before the bowl of holy water. The moment her hand touches the water, it turns the striking color of blood. She recoils and jumps around in fright as a low chuckle reverberates through the otherwise silent air.

"Come to repent your sins, child?"

The tambour of the voice sends chills down her spine. It's the sound of a million and one voices overlapping. Some speak, some whisper, some yell, but the undertone is all the same. Taunting.

She backs up and looks around wildly. There isn't a soul in the entirety of the church. She's all alone. She bites her lip as she turns back to face the cross. She takes a few steps forward, seeking comfort from the unknown chilling presence. However, the comfort she would normally receive from a tranquil and holy place such as this is no where to be found.

"Come now child, I shall offer you repentance."

The voice mocked her, whispering right in her ear yet no one was truly there.

"Do not be frightened by the salvation I shall provide thee."

From the shadows the dark soul smiles and watches with interest as the girl trembles in fear. His eyes follow her every movement. Curling his fingers tightly around the pole of his pitchfork, he comes into the light. The girl looks wide eyed as he and many others appear through a black, misty haze. Lips curl in shock and bile rises in her throat. Dead bodies. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Maybe millions. They are far too many to count. They lay at the far end of the isle way, only feet in front of her. Vacant eyes of the dead stare at her, making her shiver. Her eyes skim over the endless amount of dead, noticing the pile forms a small mountain.

"Fret not. I shall provide the redemption you seek."

As she steps closer to a mountain of faceless dead, she cranes her neck to spot a lone, living man at the top. He's seated in an impressively large throne that looms over head. His chin is in his hand and his legs are kicked over the arm. The perfect epitome of nonchalance. The jumbled voices clear the longer she holds his stare. Soon she can make out just one voice. His.

"Give me your hand and I shall wipe away your sins. I will lead you into the promise land."

His eyes invite her in. They urge her to come closer. She remains motionless however, earning an amused chuckle. She possesses far more will than he gave her credit for.

"Surely you are not afraid of me, are you child?"

Cotton mouth renders her speechless. After a moment's hesitation, she slowly concedes to the truth and nods. At that, his stoic facade cracks and a smirk slowly stretches on his lips. She shrinks back as he looks up from under black lashes. Those eyes are unnatural. They shine like fresh blood red and swirl around the black void of his pupil. Yet those rubies entrap her and she finds herself stepping forward along the narrow isle. One step is all it takes to doom her forever.

Slowly he stands from the imposing velvet and gold embossed throne. His footing is effortless as he makes his way down to her. The two match each other step for step. A hand is outstretched, inviting her closer. She willingly accepts, reaching for his grasp. The malicious smile of victory stains his features. He casts a momentary glance down at their intwined fingers.

Her fate is sealed.

He guides her up the mountain of his fallen pawns. With ease he helps her climb, never faltering as she clambers up clumsily behind him. All the while he watches over her with a warm, inviting smile. Everything about him beacons her nearer. As they reach the peak, his hand slips from hers. He seats himself with grace. Arms slither to wrap firmly around her waist. With a quick tug back, she falls back into the mysterious man's lap. She squirms in his hold. Warm breath fans her skin as his lips brush her ear. "Calm yourself child. I shall let no harm come to thee." His tongue peeks past his lips and teasingly runs up the curve of her ear. "You are mine now." The man's voice falls to a lower octave and the words tremor with a growl, "Mine."

"Greet your salvation with open arms, child." Mad laughter buzzes in her brain and reverberates through her. The man's head is thrown back in sheer jubilee. "Welcome to Hell."

Instead of the utter terror she expected to feel, she feels at peace in the man's embrace. Her eyes close of their own accord as she leans back against him. Lips dance along her neck. A sigh of pleasure escapes her. Casting a look up to the crucifix, she murmurs in apologetic prayer, "Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

His orbs shimmer in humor as his lips pause in claiming her. Lifting his lust lidded eyes, he stares coldly at the cross. The wooden figure of Jesus cries tears of blood. With a twisted smirk of satisfaction, he lowers his lips to her smooth skin once more. "Don't bless me father, for I have sinned."

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Sitting across from him, she idly stares down at the chestnut colored liquid as her spoon guides it to swirl round and round. Lips quirking into a shy smile, she gazes back up to meet his eyes. "This is probably going to sound crazy, but-"

He's quick to cut her off. Perking up in his seat, he leans forward across the table. "Oh, I love crazy," he comments with an alluring smile. "Please, continue."

"Well, I had a dream about a man. It's crazy, but he looked almost identical to you The only difference is the eyes. They were these glowing dark red eyes that just looked so unnatural, and there were horns coming out of his forehead. That's not the weird part, though. What's crazy is that this happened months before I even met you. Strange, right?" Oh, if only she knew. He could drop this ruse at a drop of a hat, but he chose to let her see his once angelic form. Kind hazel replace the ominous crimson of his iris and the horns are out of sight. The human mind is something that is so very easy to fool.

A smirk adorns the devil's lips. "Strange indeed, maybe we were fated to meet." He suggests, folding his fingers in the false appearance of contemplation. "Tell me. What happened in the dream?"

Surprise flits across her features at his interest. "I don't remember much now, it been so long." Satan's smile grows. She's lying and he can tell. It's clear she's still unsettled by the dream. Well now, he can't have that. "I just remember it being so scary. The you I saw-" She trails off as he stands and moves from his side of the booth to hers. Her brows pucker in question as he slips an arm around her shoulders. "Wh-what're you doing?"

Giving her an easy smile, his words drip with innocence and sincerity. "You looked like you needed a hug." To further prove his innocent intentions, his arm curls in and tucks her closer to his side. She freezes momentarily in his embrace, but then relaxes.

"Thanks Toby."

"Anytime, my dear. Anytime."

Yes, the mind was so easily fooled.


End file.
